Chapter 92
The Grim Reaper
A trumpet sounded in the distance, blaring low notes in quick succession. Lady Audrey and her Korimor men halted their approach. They had been facing Sergio's rear guard, who outnumbered them nearly five to one.
Audrey dismounted and joined the men-at-arms on foot. "Dietrich, bring all the men-at-arms to me and reform the line," she instructed.
"But, My Lady, the signal was to halt," Dietrich said, puzzled.
"It doesn't mean we shouldn't reposition and prepare for an assault. I'll be damned if the order is given and we're unprepared," Audrey explained.
Dietrich nodded and quickly relayed the Baroness's orders. Soon, the two hundred men reformed their column, with Audrey commanding the veteran men-at-arms who had been with her since the fateful battle against Lord Robert two years ago.
Audrey was satisfied with the formation and ordered, "Rest. Sit on the ground if you need to. Drink and catch your breath."
Almost all of her troops dropped to the ground to catch their breaths. By this point, there were no more stragglers in the field. Aside from Sergio's rear guard, the rest of the Nicopolans had retreated to their camp.
The heat of the day had caused everyone to sweat profusely, but the men were eager. Unlike their counterparts at other sections of the wall, these two hundred were still relatively fresh. From the start, the Nicopolans dared not to go against Audrey's position as they were relatively close to the city wall and benefited from the protection of the crossbowmen above.
"The Lord's banner is approaching from behind," one aide reported.
Audrey glanced back and smiled, dabbing the sweat from her brow with the cloth Carla had provided. "What do you think?" she asked her squire.
"I think the Lord is eager to unite the troops and offer battle," Carla commented, keeping her shield ready to protect her master.
"Sir Harold is also coming," Dietrich noted, observing their right wing approaching from the side.
Audrey chuckled and turned to her men-at-arms. "Boys, we've done so little today. Will you be content to let them take all the glory?"
The men chuckled at the verbal provocation. The Lady's style of command was simple, direct, and down-to-earth. Her troops saw her as the Knight Baroness, always there among them and treating them with respect.
After receiving her benevolence for almost two years, the men-at-arms at her side would readily follow her anywhere. Now, the two hundred Korimor under her command were also thinking the same. They were captivated by the Baroness' imposing black armor, sureness of action, and confidence in the field of battle.
Wherever the Lady's went, her troops followed with unswerving determination.
...
Lansius
"Did they heed the command?" asked Lansius as they trudged through the muddy field.
Sigmund, walking in front of Lansius, glanced back and nodded. "Yes, My Lord, My Lady's column has halted."
"Good," Lansius commented. He didn't want Audrey's column to interfere with the Nicopolan rout, in case she applied too much pressure for the Nicopolans to potentially regroup and mount a defense.
Never interrupt when the enemy is making a mistake.
Lansius recalled one of the maxims in the art of war. His aim was to provoke the enemy into a rout, not give them a reason to unite and fight.
Before Lansius' column could catch up with Audrey's, something unexpected occurred. The thousand men from Sergio's rear guard charged toward Audrey's column.
"By the Ageless," muttered Sigmund, and the sentiment was echoed by many nearby.
"Get Batu's riders out and make haste!" Lansius roared, setting a hard pace as he ran. Hugo and his column let out war cries, quickening their march. The three hundred Korimor and one hundred Korelian men-at-arms charged forward, striding across the battlefield.
Behind them, Batu and his brethren had retrieved their horses and now raced toward the frontline.
Lansius knew that both Audrey and Dietrich were excellent commanders, but they were also audacious.
This could backfire...
Even though he had anticipated scenarios like this, Lansius hadn't expected that Sergio would still command a thousand men—let alone elites equipped with pikes and crossbows. Despite being weighed down by his armor and short of breath, Lansius and his column pressed on, running.
...
Sir Harold's column was approaching from the right when he saw the attack unfold on the Baroness' column. Though his men were fewer in number and low on stamina due to fatigues and injuries, he knew he had to rally them. The outcome of this battle could hinge on crushing the remaining Nicopolans.
"Lads, we've fought a static defense. I think it's time to stretch our legs. Fast march!" he commanded, and his men gave it their all.
Sir Harold watched as Batu's riders galloped past them. Their allies soon coming within range for deadly ranged duels against the Nicopolans. However, the enemy's rear guard was already in disarray, so much so that their crossbowmen were preoccupied and unprepared for the approaching nomadic riders.
The disarray among the enemy ranks presented a golden opportunity for Batu's riders, who unleashed a rain of arrows on their exposed flanks. This nomadic ranged attack, coupled with the unexpectedly fierce resistance from the smaller column and the arrival of two additional columns, ultimately broke Sergio's rear guard.
Faced with overwhelming odds, the Nicopolans panicked and fled the battlefield. In their haste, they discarded their cumbersome long pikes and ran towards the general direction of their camp.
Meanwhile, the two columns finally arrived alongside Audrey's column, greeted by cheers and celebrations. Lady Audrey and her men-at-arms had once again proven their worth. Their bannerman proudly waved the Baroness' newly made banner, which depicted a charging black horse over a white shield.
Just like the Lord's blue and bronze, the Lady's black horse banner also claimed victory the first time it was carried through the battlefield.
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"A blessed banner," Sir Harold murmured, catching his breath. Now, his column was in the process of regrouping, as many had lagged behind due to exhaustion from the sprint.
Off to the side, the tall knight noted that the Lord's column had reformed. In contrast to their orderly situation, chaos reigned to their west within the Nicopolans’ encampment. Thousands fled, resembling ants whose nest had been destroyed.
...
Korimor Side
Lansius drank from the waterskin provided by Roger. Within the confines of his helmet, which was both hot and damp, the heat lingered stubbornly even with the visor up. He stood tall, catching his breath and fighting off the nausea that the full armor sprint had induced. His sabatons were caked with mud, and aches pervaded his body. Yet he was overjoyed by Audrey's victory.
Sigmund and Hugo finally cleared a path, and he finally caught sight of Audrey. They approached each other and met halfway.
"Are you injured?" Lansius asked, ignoring the glances from their troops.
"No, thanks to this armor. Took a bolt to the pauldron, but it didn't bite," she replied gracefully.
Lansius noticed new dents on her gauntlet and thigh plate but chose not to mention them. He didn't know what she had done to overcome the enemy, but he knew that it was effective.
Results are results...
The study of her tactics would come later, at a more appropriate time. For now, he grabbed her wrist and raised it high, shouting, "Behold, the Baroness of Korimor!"
Their troops erupted in cheers and whistles.
Audrey was smiling, her face flushed from the excitement around her.
Lansius wished the celebration could last longer but knew they were pressed for time. "Hold your celebration for now," he said to his men. "There's still unfinished business. Pray that you gather your spirits once more and follow me to the encampment."
The troops responded with enthusiastic clamor. Hugo, Sir Harold, Sigmund, and Dietrich rallied their men. Afterwards, they checked their equipment and replaced lost or broken items with whatever they could scrounge from the battlefield.
"Who will lead the wounded?" Sigmund asked Hugo as they convened.
"Get that squire, Roger, to do it. Time for him to get used to leading," Hugo decided.
Dietrich joined the conversation. "Deputy, Sir," he greeted, his cheek and left ear bandaged and bloodied.
"What happened to you?" Hugo asked.
Dietrich touched his bandaged cheek and winced. "Direct hit to the helmet. Nearly cost me an eye."
Hugo breathed a sigh of relief. "You're one lucky bastard."
Sigmund chimed in, "It's fortunate that we have these confiscated armors; otherwise, many of us would be goners."
The staff nodded. Compared to the Nicopolans, the men from Korelia had the advantage of better armor.
"How did you win the fight?" Sir Harold inquired.
"Praise the Lady," Dietrich began. "She had gathered the men-at-arms before the fight. When they charged at us, she ordered us to form a solid wedge—much like cavalry—and execute a concentrated charge. The Nicopolans relied too much on their long pikes, which became cumbersome once we closed in."
"That's impressive," Harold praised.
"So they broke from just that?" Hugo asked.
Dietrich exhaled deeply. "I saw it in their eyes; these Nicopolans were not in for a decisive fight. Our counterattack shocked them, especially since we aimed at their standard-bearer. Before we realized it, they began to break and flee."
The staff nodded at his explanation.
Dietrich continued, "The challenging part was surviving their initial volley of crossbow fire, which took down many..."
The sound of hooves interrupted their conversation. The cavalry, led by Sir Michael, had arrived. The one-eyed knight had been tasked with retrieving horses from the city stables. Now, the Lord, the Lady, and the knights could mount up and prepare for their final move.
...
While Lansius and his men were preparing to march, Batu and his riders were decimating the fleeing one thousand. It was a vendetta against the column that had trapped them the day before. With their arrows and blades, they claimed justice for their slain kin.
The Nicopolan elite were not even fighting; they were running away as fast as they could. It was a gruesome fight, and many were eventually captured.
Batu and his men scoured the area, searching for the elusive Tarracan named Sergio. However, despite all their efforts, neither Batu nor his scouts could determine where Sergio was supposed to be.
***
Sergio
The Tarracan man was drenched in sweat. He had run from the battle like a coward, a fact that deeply humbled his ego. When he reached the camp, it was in an uproar. Many were waiting for him, seeking his guidance and comfort. Sergio could only assure them that he had a plan up his sleeve.
In truth, he had no plan to save them. With the loss of his rear guard, there was no hope to defend this camp. Sergio had dispatched his most loyal men to secure the food supplies, hoping that not much had been lost. His only aim now was to collect his valuables and await the return of his men, so they could make their escape from this cursed place.
"Guards!" he yelled, but nobody answered. "They left...? Spineless curs!" he cursed, discarding his soaked gambeson as he entered the inner part of his tent.
Upon seeing that his wooden chest was still locked, his anger subsided. The plunder he had amassed was significant. Feeling relaxed, he glanced at his bed. The clean sheets over the hay mattress and the lingering fragrance from burnt incense, made him want to rest.
He even considered taking a quick bath, the large bucket already filled with clean water. Sergio was tempted, thinking his thousands of followers would likely defend the camp long enough for him to escape if an attack came.
"Who knows when I'll be able to enjoy proper baths again," he muttered, not caring about the grim fate awaiting his followers.
"How about never?" came the answer from behind.
Sergio was shocked and was about to turn around, but something snared his neck, and all he could do was grab the strong thin cord that tightened like a noose around his neck.
He was gasping for breath when a kick came from behind, forcing him to kneel on the carpet. He wanted to ask, to curse, to plead, but could only gasp for air and helplessly cough.
...
Daniella
Due to certain circumstances, Daniella ended up as the one who strangled Sergio, forcing him to his knees. The previous night, despite her newfound freedom, she had decided not to flee, choosing to hide instead. With thousands of tents available, she figured she could survive for a day or two by stealing food as needed. Fortunately, she only had to wait one day before her patience was rewarded.
She hadn't been idle while waiting. She'd disguised herself in pilfered garb and a hood. When Sergio went to battle, she tracked the remaining people who had once been her cohorts before they were discovered. Daniella convinced them to join her in seizing this rare chance for vengeance. Lord Lansius' victory and the ensuing rout made it all easier.
By chance, she reunited with Servius, who had urged his family, friends, and allies to flee to the neighboring forest. Daniella asked him to join her. Together, they successfully infiltrated Sergio's tent, killing the guards and cleaning up the mess. However, the men froze when the Tarracan Man returned. It was Daniella who broke the spell with her stealthy attack.
Now, the infamous Tarracan Man was kneeling at their mercy.
Servius revealed himself to Sergio and declared, "It's time to answer for your crimes."
"You ungrateful wretches," Sergio spat, coughing and gasping for air. "I kept you fed and alive all this time! I demand a fair trial!"
Daniella laughed. "And who will be your judge? The Lord of Korelia?"
Sergio trembled at the suggestion.
Others wanted to strike Sergio, but Servius blocked them. "It's not a bad idea. Let's present this man to Lord Lansius."
"Bah! Servius, the people outside will kill us and free him," one warned.
"The affairs of Nicopolans will be settled by Nicopolans," another recited the well-known rite.
Servius sighed heavily. "Fine! A trial it is. Let's make it quick."
One man stepped forward. "We trusted you with our sons, yet you sent them on pointless raids that did nothing to secure food."
Another took a key from Sergio's pocket and opened the chest filled with golden goblets, rings adorned with gemstones, and gold coins.
"This is what you're looking for, not food but richness!" he half-shouted at Sergio. "You sacrificed my brother, cousins, and nephews as if they were your private army. They died as thieves and robbers."
"You lured us with promises of food, only to feed us human flesh. We know, Sergio, how you butchered those villagers who surrendered to you. You're no better than mindless beast!"
The accusations flew one after another.
Servius knelt and stared at Sergio. "One of your guards assaulted my friend's daughter. When we reported it, you only laughed. Then the whole family died from food poisoning. Were you involved?"
Sergio could only stare back in response.
Unfazed, Servius continued, "You also sent me with two other envoys carrying a box containing embalmed fingers. Was that an attempt to get rid of us?"
Sergio turned his gaze away.
Servius turned to Daniella. "You're also Nicopolan; you be the judge."
"Any defense?" Daniella asked, maintaining tension on her cord.
"I led you through famine and this is my reward—"
One of the men, who had lost brothers and kins, shoved gold coins into Sergio's mouth. "This is the reward you sought!"
Sergio choked violently. Daniella had had enough. She whispered, "Remember the one you left to die under the sun? He said thousands perished because of your ambitions, not to mention the innocents you butchered just for your rise to nobility. Sergio, it's time you met them again."
Gasping for air, the condemned cast a terrified, bloodshot glance at his captors. But Daniella summoned her strength, and the struggle of the Tarracan Man came to an abrupt end. His jaw opened wide, releasing gold coins that were stained with blood and saliva.
The fallout from his demise and the fate of the Nicopolans and Korimor region would finally be decided.
***